The Prodigy and the Virtuoso
by ArtistInTraining
Summary: Mori Hana is a young virtuoso, she is also know as 'The Princess of Cello'. A true beauty, quiet and reserved. In Outsider's eyes, she seems to be too perfect, but as you read the story, Mori Hana is no Mary-Sue. She leaves France and moves to Japan, and goes to Seishun Academy. And for some reason, she keeps bumping into Echizen Ryoma. Possible Mary-Sue? Ryoma/OC
1. CH 1: Intro

Ch 1: Intro

**3rd Person**

Mori Hana is a classically trained prodigy. Only 14 years old, and she has already became a very well known cellist.

She is called the Princess of Cello by family, fans, friends, and foes.

She is a true beauty, quiet and reserved. She has pale pink hair that comes down to her shoulders, in which she'd usually style in two high pigtails. Her eyes are big and round as a puppy's, and red as a rose. (PIC OF HANA OF MY PROFILE)

She is half Japanese and half French, she is currently attending a french boarding school, _Nancy Academy: For the Classically Gifted. _Hana is the #1, for cello in her school. At least, until she found out that she was moving to Japan, where her father works as the president of a tea company. Now, you're probably saying in your head, "Too perfect, hate the story." But as you will continue the story, you'll learn that Mori Hana, she is no Mary-Sue.

**This is a little teaser of the story, PICTURES of Hana on my profile. I decided to make her look and somewhat act like Karuta, from 'Inu x Boku SS'.**


	2. CH 2: Welcome to Japan

I WILL PUT _ITALICS _FOR FRENCH, NORMAL PRINT FOR JAPANESE, AND **BOLD** FOR ENGLISH.

NOT TO MENTION, I WILL DEFINE MUSIC TERMS.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME, READING MY STORY, AND TAKING THE PATIENCE TO READ THIS LITTLE MESSAGE! :)

-ArtistInTraining

* * *

_Virtuoso means "exceptional performer" in Italian, and is used to describe a highly proficient, technically skilled performer. When the descriptive term virtuosic playing is used, it generally means the performer is playing difficult music in a highly skilled manner._

CH 1: Welcome to Japan

**Hana's POV**

"Where was I?" was my first question when I woke up. My eyes were still trying to adjust to the bright lights that hung off the ceiling. When I was able to see more clearly, I saw white plush airplane seats, glass tables, another table that held multiples of snacks, crystal vases and chandeliers, and a red velvet carpet. Not after a few seconds, I realized that this was father's private jet, and I was heading to Japan.

*Flashback Starts*

_"Hana, we're moving to Japan!"_ my mother said in a excited tone. Her big red curls jumped up and down, as she hopped up and down.

I eyed her red locks, and imagined father's dark brown hair in my head, and compared them to my own. I have never known how I ended up with pink hair.

It seemed so unnatural, and not realistic at all. I knew for a fact that I was my parents' child, many aunts and uncles would come up to me, smiling and telling their memory of my birth, and telling me their _long_ point of view about waiting in the emergency room, I didn't even know most of the aunts and uncles that came up to me.

Everyone in my family remembered my birth the best, because it was the most memorable. My parents were never meant to be together since they had such different backgrounds, to their families it was practically a taboo, both families forbid them to be together. But the star-crossed lovers, also known as my parents, refused, and had me.

I eyed my mother once again, her sharp eyes peered at me gently. I broke out of my thoughts, came back to reality, and remembered mother's last comment:

Japan.

_"Eh?"_ I replied in confusion. I always knew when she was joking, and when she wasn't. She'd usually ramble on about moving to Japan, becoming a family again, having meals together, so-on-and-so-on. But something in her eyes told me that this was no joke.

_"I said, we're moving to Japan! It's time we reunite our family!"_ she yelled out in triumph.

_"School?"_ I asked. This seemed so short notice, I couldn't just drop everything and go to Japan, I still had so much to learn.

_'You can always keep learning' _is what my first and only cellist teacher, Monsieur Francis told me. After all those years, he was still my teacher. I respected him for not leaving me, and never bailing out on me.

I remember when I first saw him when I was four, I thought he looked like the stereotypical french teacher. He had thick black hair, around in his late 40's, and had a thin french mustache. He was strict and expected more from me, especially if I'd made a distasteful sound from my cello.

Now, he was 57 years old. He had grey hairs growing out of his slick black hair, and more winkles than when I met him. He still had his loud, old man attitude, but had trouble walking and speaking at times. But his skillful cello skills were remarkable as ever, maybe they got better as he aged.

_"Don't worry about it! You're going to Seishun Academy, it's a school very well known for its tennis,"_ she said very matter-of-fact.

What?

I worried for mother sometimes.

_"...I play cello,"_ I said blandly in my normal monotone voice. She rolled her eyes.

_"I know sweetie! But you don't need any fancy music school, you have the talent of a grown woman!"_ she said confidently.

No, this was breaking everything that I believed in. I still had much to learn. And learn and _learn! _

_"No,"_ I refused. She looked desperate.

_"Why not?"_ she questioned me. I racked my head to form the right words, but I couldn't. I always had this problem, speaking, showing emotions, I barely understood them. I didn't know what to feel. Playing the cello helped with this problem, all of my feelings that I couldn't yell out, formed into a beautiful melody or a dark twisted aria.

* * *

_Aria (air-ee-uh)- an elaborate melody sung solo with accompaniment, as in an opera or oratorio._

* * *

_"...Much to learn. Still."_ I was able to keep my voice smooth, as I uttered out the words.

Mother looked at me questionably. _"I'll get you any teacher you'd like when we get to Japan,"_ she promised. Her warm gentle hands rubbed my arm as she spoke.

_"Monsieur Francis,"_ I demanded calmly. She raised her perfectly arched brow.

_"Monsieur Francis? He's been your cellist instructor since you've been able to hold a cello, what more can you possibly learn from him?"_ she mustered out.

_"Monsieur Francis,"_ I repeated. Her face pinched together, she looked flushed and annoyed. I knew how much she wanted this:

To become a family again.

This was a 'new low' for me.

Call me, 'Selfish'.

Her face softens, she answers me in a cool tone, _"Hana, as obstreperous as he is, he's an old man. We can't just drag him to Japan! He would feel so lost. France and Japan….are just to different, he'd be homesick,"_ she inferred.

She was right, of course she was.

In all honestly, France suited Monsieur Francis perfectly, I couldn't imagine him anywhere else. The thought of my selfness made me feel foolish, like I had became a child in a matter of seconds.

She could see the pain in my eyes.

The pain that I felt for leaving the person I trusted the most.

The pain, that showed.

I flinched unconscious as she touched my cheek. I stepped back as if her touch had burned me.

_"Don't worry, everything will be alright,"_ she vowed.

Just alright.

When will things get _better?_

*Flashback Ends*

_"Miss Hana, we have arrived,"_ I heard Charles familiar voice called out.

Charles, my trusted butler. My childhood friend. The person who understood me.

He recently turned 16, and now was fully taking responsibly for me.

He was handsome. Black, thick, spiked hair covered his head. His eyes possessed bright blue irises. He was tall and fit, and he was a hit with the female population.

But he was completely loyal to me, and only me, like a true butler.

_"Okay."_ I responded. I looked at the side of my seat, and sighed in relief. My cello was exactly where I left it. I plucked the cello off the floor, which was safely tucked inside its case.

Charles offered me his hand, which I gladly excepted. He led me down the stairs off the plane, to the foot of father's new mansion.

It was beautiful.

Classy and elegant were my first thoughts.

The lawn was huge, the grass was neatly cut down, roses bloomed around the entrance, leaving a trail of a thin scent as you passed by. The mansion itself was white and brown, and at least four floors tall.

"Shall we?" Charles asked, extending his arm out to me. In his other arm, he held my luggage, balancing four suitcases stacked together. I rolled my eyes at his cockiness, and gracefully took his arm.

He opened the door, and inside stood a few butlers and maids, a gardener or two, and at least three chefs. I took a good look at the house, once you entered the house, wide stairs continued a path to take upstairs, there were two other hallways located beside the main stairs, probably leading to the kitchen or living room.

"Welcome, Hana-sama!" the workers greeted me. I gave them a stern nod as Charles showed me the way to my room.

I mentally groaned in my head. Father had always went overboard with my rooms, and ended up hating them. He found out the true a while ago, and bursted into tears.

Charles guided me to the very top floor. Every once in a while, I had to give my cello a quick 'pop' off the ground, to prevent my treasure from slipping away from me. I refused to let my cello out of my sight, or let anyone carry her, though I'd entrust Charles to take care of her once in a while, and he'd swear on his loyalty to me, to protect her.

That was enough for me.

He led me to a door, and I braced myself for anything crazy. When he opened the door, it was an empty closet.

I raised a brow at him. He smirks, and pulls a piece of string connected to the ceiling of the closet, and before another set of stairs drop down, I say, "An attic…"

"Yes, you are correct Miss Hana. Your father thought you'd like it," he explains.

The thought of having an attic as a room seemed comforting. He shifts his head over to the stairs, signaling me to take a look.

I pick my cello up a few inches, preventing the bottom of the case getting grazed. Once I was able to get a good look of my room, I almost gasped aloud.

It was everything I always wanted in a room, large, and _me_.

The largest piece of furniture had to be the twin set bed. The material was made of wood, around four pillows to cuddle with at night, and was covered with a neatly, cleaned white bed sheet.

Not a wrinkle in sight, as per usual.

Next to the bed, was a small desk, holding my apple laptop, and a vintage red alarm clock.

There were two other sections, I called this section the first floor. Short wooden ladders broke them apart, they were old, but still beautifully made.

The second floor was filled with canvases, paints, colored pencils, oil pastels, watercolor cakes, paint brushes, and so-on-and-so-on.

But this was my favorite part, the third floor.

Empty space.

Empty space meant for my cello.

Empty space that would echo and bounce across my room, as if I were preforming in an opera house. (BTW: She's just comparing her room to an opera house, because opera houses are huge, and full of space, that would make opera singers' voices echo beautiful. She knows the difference.)

Empty space for dancing.

Empty space meant for me.

Charles appeared behind me.

"So, I take it, that you taken a liking to the room?" he asked me. Beneath his kind smile, I could tell that he was smirking. I broke into a small, almost non-exisiting grin.

"Very," I admitted.

"Good," he checked his watch, "It's 9:03 pm, three minutes late for bed. Please go to your sleeping quarters, I shall unpack for you and set your alarm clock for school, your uniform will be by your bedpost tomorrow in the morning. Please enjoy your rest, Miss Hana," Charles assured me.

I nodded. "Good night, Charles."

"Oh, and by the way," I turn towards him as he continues. Knocking on the walls with his knuckles, he added, "Sound-proof," and smirks.

I smirked back at him, and waved him good night.

Then I took off to the first floor, I changed into an over sized white button up shirt, (No pants….she just doesn't…) and went to bed.

* * *

YEAH! FIRST CHAPTER DONE, TOOK ME FOREVER. -_-

-ArtistInTraining


	3. Author NoteRewriting

Hey everyone, I know it has been a long time since I posted any chapters. But I don't like my story at all right now. For some reason my writing style has really changed, so I'm rewriting the story!

-ArtistInTraining


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